Autophobia
by cold clouds
Summary: Nico only has enough love left for himself. He can't afford for someone to take away anymore of it.


**Hi! This is my second one-shot, written for PierceTheVeil's Random Quote Challenge. Hope you guys enjoy:**

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_**Autophobia** _\- _the specific phobia of isolation; a morbid fear of being egotistical, or a dread of being alone or isolated. Sufferers need not be physically alone, but believe that they are being ignored or unloved in some way. _

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It was selfish, actually, to feel this way.  
By discarding myself, hating myself, I was becoming completely obsessed with who I was.  
The scars in my skin, the shadows under my eyes, the scabs I'd bitten into my lips, all there because of this strange egotism I have. An upside-down vanity. Every time I would pass a mirror, or notice someone watching me, the blood would come burning through my cheeks.  
_Shame._  
Hurricanes ripping through my stomach, chipping away at my resilience. The storm came from within.  
It was suffocating.  
Why did I care so much? Those who once mattered to me never cared at all.  
I used to think about other people more than myself. Just three very special people I would keep locked up inside my hurricane heart.

Bianca. I knew her better than I knew myself, but I still couldn't figure her out.  
She promised a lot of things. That she loved me, believed in me. That she didn't need anyone else but me.  
Her words were sweet nothings. She never meant what she said.  
Perhaps she lied more to herself than she did to me. Perhaps she believed she wasn't lonely until she met the hunters of Artemis, who were willing to provide a stronger support for her than I ever could. I wasn't enough.  
_I will never be enough for anyone._  
Lying, it seemed, was a trait we shared. If it didn't once cause me to cry at night, perhaps I could grudgingly accept that.

Percy Jackson. My first hero. All bright smiles and unwavering loyalty, complete with rebellious charms and God-like abilities.  
He juxtaposed me in everyday life. Strong when I was weak, fighting while I was ready to run, relieved and happy after walking through hell, rather than becoming hostile as I did.  
How he did it I'll never understand, but it scared me. Compared to his feelings for others, his life meant as little to him as Bianca's words meant to her, and that was selfish. Selfish for him to think he didn't matter, because _everyone_ cared about Percy Jackson. No one would cope if he died.  
No matter how little you talked to him, how little he paid attention to you, you would love him because he deserved it. He deserved it for being the same person he'd always been, even after two life-altering prophecies.  
_I will never be that kind of hero._  
This unsettling mixture of admiration, jealousy and hopeless obsession hurtled through my hurricane, keeping me spiralling up and down, up and down in a frenzy of the thoughts and feelings I left unspoken.

After Percy, I needed someone. Anyone to settle the churning hurricane, to remind me to forget.  
That someone was Hazel Levesque. The lost soul. Wondering in Asphodel, alone and unwanted.  
I could see myself in her golden eyes, defeated, but still begging for someone to change that. I'm sure that she could see her own ghostly reflection in my eyes, too.  
A connection. Deep, riveting and dark. Dark as Hades. She was my new sister, my better, brighter sister, who had an affinity for the earth's beautiful treasures rather than for death, skeletons and shadow.  
She wouldn't break her promises, and she would give me the attention I childishly craved.  
We were on the same level, until we weren't anymore.  
Camp Jupiter changed her, quests changed her, and Percy Jackson changed her. But mostly, she'd managed to change herself, shape herself into her own heroine with power and skill. Where once I saw myself, I suddenly saw determination, hope and something incredibly _Roman_ in her eyes. She was strong.  
I was proud, but more so I was lonely. Actually, I was completely alone. Her growing up meant leaving me behind, back where it was becoming terribly obvious to me that I wasn't going anywhere. Ever.  
_I will never amount to anything. _  
As they left me, those three people were swept away in my hurricane, and replaced with the horrible, spinning vortex of immense _nothing_ they left behind, pulsing painfully in my chest where my heart should be.

_You need to look out for yourself more, Nico_, Reyna would say, _you need to let it all go, and then you'll be fine.  
_She was secretive like Bianca, lied a lot. She was also untouchable, the perfect praetor beside Percy Jackson, loyal to a fault towards her people. She'd also risen to her position through determination and an incredibly Roman-like ambition for victory. _  
_She was something different to me, and at the same time all I'd ever known. _  
_I knew what was coming, though. She'd break a promise, or she'd disappear, or simply realize that she'd be better off without me._  
_To open myself up to her would be to kill myself softly. A sadistic devotion. _  
_One more time, one more big rejection, and it would destroy me.

These people don't matter because they don't care. They think I'll get better and they say I'm fine. They don't look closely.  
I could tell myself what they tell me, repeat their words, but it wouldn't make a difference. People say they're fine because it could mean anything at all.  
It's scary how much those people were able to take away from me. It's like I only have enough love left over for myself, and I can't afford for anyone else to take any more of it.  
There are only three people I look out for now: Me, Myself and I.  
They're the ones who really need help, after all.

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**Thanks for reading! No hate please, but constructive criticism is always helpful. **

**\- Cat x **


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